STATE TERRORISTS

On the 15th of October 2007, a gang of masked, gun-wielding, booted, black-clad state terrorists drove into Ruatoki and took its people hostage. 

They opened their raid by smashing into houses where people were either just beginning their daily routines, or had yet to even get out of bed.

It was about 5.30 in the morning and basically we thought it was the horses running around our whare, so I got up, went out the sliding door, and all I saw was red dots all over me and police yelling at me telling me to stand still and put my hands up.  [Awhitia Te Whakaturou-Tohu, Ruatoki resident, victim of state terrorism.]

Then a little after dawn, they illegally blockaded the only road, stopped all exiting vehicles (including the local school bus), herded people out of their houses, and held guns to heads to ensure their orders were followed. 

I just started crying and my nan tried to come over to me and asked me if I was OK, and then the policeman behind her said, ‘Shut up, don’t talk to her,’ and walked closer towards me and pointed the gun down at my head.  [Patricia Lambert, 12 years old, victim of state terrorism.]

For the next six hours the state’s terrorists held everyone they’d captured without access to food, water, toilets, communications and (in some cases) their families. 

By midday, although charges had yet to be formally laid and no confessions had been obtained, the state had saturated New Zealand’s media with their spin on what was happening in Ruatoki.  Consequently, instead of being correctly identified as victims of terrorism, the people of Ruatoki were initially cast as its perpetrators. 

 

As we now know, and to their credit, the media dug deeper than the state-sponsored spin about Operation 8 and soon exposed a number of problems with it, including the fact that the warrants on which it was permitted to go ahead, were obtained illegally.

 

Gradually but inexorably the case for terrorism against all those arrested on 15th October 2007 unravelled, and almost four years later all charges of terrorism were quietly dropped by the state.  

 

Although somewhat embarrassing, the failure to convict anyone of terrorism as a result of Operation 8 hasn't fazed those who ordered and masterminded it, because its main purpose was not so much to secure convictions as to send the message that they are ready, willing and able to break the law and to enact terror against the people of this country.  So in that sense, the operation was very successful. 

The state has been and remains a more likely employer of terrorism within the international system than insurgents. [Professor Michael Stohl, researcher and lecturer on organizational and political communication with special focus on terrorism, human rights and global relations.]

Indeed, the audience of the act or threat of terrorist violence is always more important than the immediate victims.  That holds true for all terrorism, including that sponsored by the state.    

PASS THE AMMUNITION

PASS THE AMMUNITION

Over the last weekend in September, there was a slip on Pawarenga road.  Locals immediately put in waratahs and warning tape, then called Far North District Council who came and added some cones and signs.  

Since then elections for the new Council have been held, but nothing has been done to repair the road which is now down to a single narrow lane.  As the slip continues to move, it’ll be interesting to see whether FNDC repairs the road before the next weather event knocks it out completely.

In the meantime we have a new Council.  So far, post-election comments have been polite (at least in public), and largely along the lines of, “Congratulations to the winners, commiserations to the losers, praise the Lord, and pass the ammunition.” 

In short, it seems not a lot is expected to change, particularly for youth and Māori.      

Although they were turned off by Wayne Brown’s naked self-interest regards mining, and embarrassing blurts regards most everything else, many Māori aren’t exactly lit up over John Carter either. 

“A pleasant WIMP (white, ignorant, male politician) replaces an unpleasant one – big deal,” posted someone on facebook, where commentary is not polite at all.  She hasn’t forgotten Carter’s 1995 impersonation on talkback radio of a supposedly workshy Māori called Hon-ay, and nor will he have. 

Another fact he won’t be unaware of is that, though half of this council is made up of returning councilors, none of them have strong resonance with or for Māori; Mate Radich included.  And of the five new incoming councilors, only Willow Jean Prime is connected in that sense.  Why this is so is an analysis for another day. 

I hope that the new Mayor and Council will be more amenable than the previous council to recognising and listening to hapū mana whenua regards te ao taiao and te oranga tangata.  I hope they’ll value our views and directions.  And I hope they’ll put as much into communities like Pawarenga as they do into those like Kerikeri. 

Because the fact that there’s a new FNDC about to emerge isn’t as important to Pawarenga as the fact that no iteration of FNDC, (old or new), has fixed their road yet.  So don’t ask them for post-election commentary; it may be unprintable. 

However, just as they did with Brown in 2007, most will give Carter a ‘newbies’ chance; in the first month anyway.  If nothing’s changed after that, it’ll be less “Praise the Lord,” and more “Pass the ammunition.” 

GO VOTING

Anyone driving north of Kaeo on Sunday 22nd September might have seen that the NO MINING sign on the hill opposite Kaeo bridge briefly read GO MINING. 

I am reliably informed that later that same day a certain Far North District mayoral candidate was spotted in the Whangaroa pub with paint on his hands. 

Asked, “What about the whenua?” he replied airily, “Oh, people don't even know the issues when they say, 'what about the whenua?'"

So what are the issues?  Well, according to the paint-stained candidate, the first issue is that we are faced with a stark choice between jobs or the whenua. 

He is partly right in that any mining activity will create some jobs.  But, unless very large and multiple mineral lodes are found, those jobs won’t be long-term and they won’t be for locals.   

The second issue according to candidate paint-stain is that Whangaroa harbour contains four times the amount of mercury than it should, which means there’s also likely to be gold in ‘them thar hills.’  Again he is partly right.  But he also told my informant that the area involved is unlikely to be larger than two football fields.  Maybe he was just trying to get her mind off images of Waihi-sized holes in the ground.  But if his estimation of size is accurate, then that’s more bad news for job-seekers. 

The third issue he put to my informant is that Whangaroa already has mining in the shape of the china clay deposits at Matauri Bay.  Therefore, he inferred, there should be no objection to more mining for other minerals in the area. 

That’s like telling recreational fishers, look you’ve already got commercial fishers catching fish, so you shouldn’t object to more of them arriving to take more fish.  As an argument it doesn’t really hold water, does it? 

When my informant first told me about her encounter with the painting mayoral candidate, I laughed.  I mean, seriously?  He painted GO MINING on the whenua?  What a clown.  But today I’m looking at the voting returns for the current round of elections, and it’s not funny at all. 

We’re on our way to another record low voter turnout; barely 30% this time.  That means, even if we did get a wonderful mayor and council out of the process, the huge majority of voters are totally uninterested, turned off and disengaged anyway. 

When I look at what we’ve had leading us for some time, I can understand why people might not feel like bothering.  But given that local government will still influence what, where and how we do a lot of our living in the foreseeable future, it’s a shame.  Especially when there are some fine people standing for mayor this time; the painter excluded. 

Unsurprisingly his handiwork was undone within 24 hours.

Rather than GO MINING, he should have painted signs that simply read GO VOTING.

 

 

 

 

FACING OUR FATHER

Many, many years ago I got caught smoking ciggies at school and was made to phone my parents to tell them I was being suspended.  I feared having to go home later and face my father, but first I had to deal with hearing the sorrow and disappointment in my mother’s voice.   

Sorrow and disappointment are what I feel regards the latest sex abuser, Daniel Taylor, who plead guilty last week to nine representative charges of sexual abuse against five boys, one under the age of twelve. 

Sorrow for those boys and their families who came forward as early as 2007 and reported what he was doing to them.  But instead of being encouraged and supported to go to the police, they weren’t believed and were fobbed off.  Sorrow for those whom he subsequently went on to abuse, and for their families who weren’t warned earlier by those who knew he was struggling with sexual deviancy towards male children.

Sorrow for those who could have helped stop him offending against more children, but who instead either didn’t discern his lies or who, even after they had been clearly warned, still chose to allow him more access to children.  Sorrow for the whistleblowers who also weren’t believed but were instead either marginalised and vilified, or pressured and threatened into backing down.

Sorrow for his supporters who were duped by his lies into either directly or indirectly pressuring his victims to recant their truths.  Sorrow for his family who must have struggled to differentiate between their love for him and their fears over him.

Can anything good come of this latest case of abuse?  Yes, if we make sure the following things happen. 

When abuse is reported to us we must treat it as a crime and report it to the police.  All suspected or known abusers must not be permitted unsupervised access to children.  All alleged abusers must be kept in jail until their case has been heard.  All known victims must be reassured that they did nothing wrong.  All suspected victims must be given sanction and support to come forth so they too can begin healing.  All institutions like schools, churches, CYFS and whānau must be made accountable for how they deal with abusers in their midst.

In putting their sexual wants before the needs of children in their care and power, abusers like Taylor and Parker are monsters who broke the laws of man.  However, in my book they are also sons of deity who have sinned.
 

Inasmuch as they are able to repent of that sin, they must do so fully.  Because one day, just like I had to over my youthful breaking of school rules, they will have to face their Father.  We all will.

THE CORRUPT CUP

Until last week I hadn’t watched a single moment of the current America’s Cup regatta.  But being with my parents in Pawarenga for the past ten days has made me a captive audience to it, because they are avid watchers; or at least they were before I arrived.  More on that later. 

I can’t swallow the baited lie that this is a race between nations, with little old NZ playing David to America’s Goliath.  No.  This isn’t so much a race as a cynical marketing exercise by billionaires selling goods and products that 99% of us either will never own, use or need.  So, given the behaviour of the so-called American team in particular, I’ve personally renamed this event the Corrupt Cup. 

To understand why, take a look at the lead up to this regatta when Larry Ellison and his rich cronies tried to perpetrate a real estate scam on San Francisco. Even though San Franciscans were able to scale back that swindle, Ellison and Oracle still evicted Teatro ZinZanni from Pier 27 so they could profit from overpriced waterfront concerts at the spot they supposedly needed for their boat race; lying, cheating and corrupting the system all along the way.

Then Ellison, the world's fifth richest man, and the other 1-percenters on the Corrupt Cup Organizing Committee, stuck San Francisco taxpayers with a $20 million bill for their race because they were all too greedy and selfish to honour their private fundraising commitments – which they could have covered by simply writing cheques for amounts they would barely have noticed, and which they'd have been able to write off their taxes anyway.

On top of all that, Ellison and his team forced a true sporting event – the venerable Escape from Alcatraz triathlon – to be moved up from the warm-ish summer months to the frigid winter because the yachts were apparently unable to share San Francisco Bay for a few hours one morning.  As a result one man died of a heart attack and 150 participants had to be rescued (three times the normal number) because the water was so dangerously cold.

But the worst thing about the Corrupt Cup is how long it’s taking to finish.  I started watching on Friday 13th September when Team Emirates NZ only needed two more races to clinch the Cup.  Ten days later, they still haven’t done it. 

I’m with the facebook poster who wrote, “come on billionaire boat raceowners, who I will never meet...hurry and win your silly cup, so you can go back to your flash yacht club and stop distracting my people from the real life issues that surround us…Feed the billion starving children in the world and then I'll be impressed!”  Indeed. 

The only comfort I have in all this is that my parents are no longer watching with bated breath, and the odds are improving that New Zealand won’t have to host the next round of the Corrupt Cup.

STRAIGHT FROM THE HORSE'S MOUTH

On 19th August a letter from Mr Rangitane Marsden (co-chair of the self-appointed Better Local Government Working Group – BLG) was sent to all whānau, hapū and iwi regarding local government reform in Northland.  It was later published in the Northland Age and included several claims about Ngāti Kahu and local government that are complete kaka. 

At their hui-a-marama on 24th July 2013 Te Runanga-a-Iwi o Ngāti Kahu instructed me to republish the truth about their position on local government. 

First, the hapū of Ngāti Kahu either represent themselves or instruct their mandated iwi authority to do so, and neither the BLG nor its Māori co-chair have sought or been given that mandate with regard to local government or any other matter. 

Second, Te Taitokerau Iwi Leaders Forum is an informal collective with absolutely no legal standing or representative capacity in its own right.  What’s more, it too still hasn’t sought nor gotten a mandate to represent Ngāti Kahu on local government or any other matter. 

Third, Mr Marsden concedes in his letter that the unanimous support of iwi for two Unitary Authorities in Taitokerau doesn’t include Ngāti Kahu.  But in the same paragraph he claims to speak for a list of iwi that includes Ngāti Kahu.  Even a dead horse should’ve gotten the message by now; he doesn’t.  

Fourth, Mr Marsden asserts in his letter that Ngāti Kahu reject any form of local government.    Wrong again.  Ngāti Kahu hapū are clear that local government has a number of Crown-delegated roles and responsibilties in their respective rohe.  They’re equally clear that local government authority does not supersede their own hapū rangatiratanga under He Hakaputanga and Te Tiriti.  As such they are less concerned with the legislated structure of local government and more focused on its legislated mandate to properly engage with them.

Finally, Mr Marsden’s letter was written on a miscellaneous letterhead of Taitokerau Iwi Leaders Forum – Te Hiku o Te Ika – Te Waka o Taonui.  Regardless of whether or not such a hotch-potch organisation exists, the fact remains that neither he nor it speak for Ngāti Kahu. 

And that is the truth about Ngāti Kahu and local government, based on the facts and straight ... 

THE MEASURE OF A MAN

Not “How did he die”? But “How did he live?”
Not “What did he gain?” But “What did he give?”
Not “What was his station?” But “Had he a heart?”
And “How did he play his God-given part?”

Denis Wilmott Hansen (1933 – 2013) was a physically big man.  Even at 80 years of age and slightly stooped he towered over other men.  The papers and TV talk of his mahi from penal reform to health promotion, his fame as both a player for the Kiwis in the 1950s and later as a Māori All Black.  But we who knew him talk about his crack-up humour, his genuine humility and his honest heart.

 

Whenever I hear someone claim to have the common touch, I measure them against Denis.  “I’m a very important man,” he’d say by way of introduction, “Just ask me, and I’ll tell you.”  But the truth is, he was always genuinely amazed when strangers greeted him by name.    

 

Denis had no skeletons in the closet, because he regularly took them out and set them dancing in the middle of the floor for the entertainment of all.  But, if you were capable of seeing deeper than the surface fun to the core truth of one of his stories, then you would also be edified.

 

When my mokopuna first met him he’d had a stroke a few years before and the oldest blurted out, “Your face is crooked.”  He roared with laughter then told them, “God gave me this crooked face to help me see around corners.”  They understood.  Ko nga kokona o te whare ka kitea, ay Papa Den?  Ae, tika tau moko.  Engari ko nga kokona o te ngakau e kore e kitea, haungā ia ki Te Atua.

Not “What was his shrine? Nor “What was his creed?”
But “Had he befriended those really in need?”
Not “What did the piece in the newspaper say?”
But “How many were sorry when he passed away?”

Denis did more than see into the corners of human hearts, he acted.  A barefooted patient would suddenly find a new pair of slippers in their locker, delivered by the world’s biggest elf.  A perpetrator would be kindly told to stop perpetrating, or Papa Den would tickle his bum-bum with his boot.  A complete stranger would be serenaded with an appropriate song prompted by a key word.

 

Was he ever ready with a word or good cheer,
To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?
These are the units to measure the worth
of a man as a man, regardless of birth.

 

Yesterday we laid the body of a big man to rest beside that of his beloved mother in their native soil.  Today his legacy lives on in his uri and all who were blessed to know the measure of the man.  Haere atu ra e te rangatira Denis. He totara nui o tana iwi hapū.  Ka aroha ki te whānau pani.

THE MADNESS OF IT ALL

My youngest mokopuna’s first birthday celebration last weekend was a welcome respite from the madding world.  Awestruck children encircled a towering melon and fruit cake in the faint light of a single flickering candle. 

A boisterous waiata gave way to pin-dropping silence; our collective breaths held to see if baby would actually blow it out: and among the older tamariki the fight broke out to be first at the candle after baby started crying.  Barking dogs and children’s laughter provided the soundtrack to a different, wonderful kind of madness.

But by Monday I’d returned to a world where, on the other side of the globe, the collective breaths of a nation waited in anticipation of their candle being extinguished by the Nobel Peace Prize winning American President who seems intent on a course of action that would have been called a war crime a generation ago.  His predecessor used the key words weapons of mass destruction to trump up support for the war on Iraq.  Western democracies bought and repeated the lie in their droves.  Today Obama’s key words to justify attacking Syria are this heinous crime.  Will Key and co line up eagerly to peddle that message?

But hang on a minute.  Do we really believe that the Syrian government staged a chemical attack days after United Nations Inspectors arrived in Damascus?  And closer to home, do we really believe that Maori Youth Crime is down 32%, as the Herald reported yesterday?  Was it really a misinterpretation of the law that led to 80 New Zealanders having their privacy breached?  And how was it that the botulism scare turned out to be a complete straw man?

Today’s media headlines couldn’t be better designed to intentionally stimulate fear and anxiety in us.  The steady jolts of bad news couldn’t be more carefully timed to keep us in a perpetual state of fight or flight, short–circuit our critical thinking, distract us from what is really important, and render us ngoikore. 

Aeschylus has been credited with saying, “In war, truth is the first casualty.”  If that’s true, then when future historians look back on the last twenty years, much the same way others studied the conditions that preceded The Great Depression and World War II, I wouldn’t be surprised if they dub this the Golden Age of Bulldust. 

We’d do well to remember Aeschylus’ words.  But as I recall the true joy and peace of my mokopuna’s birthday celebrations, I reckon we’d do even better to listen more to barking dogs and laughing children than to the world’s manipulated headlines and the madness of it all.

A SPIRITUAL CRISIS

 

Another murder in Kaitāia highlights the growing spiritual crisis in our rohe where we clearly have a problem.  Those of us with eyes can see that Kaitāia has become a place of new tribes full of young Māori.  But these tribes have more to do with gangsta culture than with Te Ao Māori. 

 

We now see rangatahi who identify themselves more readily by the colour of bandanas and hoodies rather than by hapū and iwi.  In fact some nights Kaitāia looks more like East LA than Aotearoa, and each week the growing list of reported crime committed by young offenders bears that out.  What must we do to change that? 

Finding and locking up the criminal offenders is one approach.  But New Zealanders are already among the most jailed people in the world, and young Māori men make up more than half those numbers.  Calls for more police, increased sentencing and making the parents of young offenders accountable, is another approach.  But this continues the trend towards criminalising and jailing more people.    

I suspect that the main value in calls to make the families of criminals accountable is that if crime were classified by family, we’d find that most of it could be traced to a dozen or so.  I also suspect that most of the tragedies that make the headlines could also be traced to those same families. 

It’s a known fact that there are some dysfunctional, sick families amongst us.  They exist under almost visible clouds of fear, anger and distrust.  They live under deepening shadows of substance abuse, family violence, sexual depravity and hopelessness.  It’s another known fact that it is actually adult offenders from amongst these families who are doing the worst crimes of murder, rape and assault.  A superstitious person might call these families cursed.  Either way, they need broad-based interventions, but they do not need more jail. 

They, like all of us, are engaged in the age old battle between good and evil which modern psychologists interpret as the struggle between love and fear.  In our responses to their offending, we can be angry and afraid, feed the darkness of fear and evil, and fail to transform them or ourselves; or we can meet them with an opposition that offers love-based answers. 

I know from personal experience that transformation for Māori offenders is possible only when they are able to validate whakapapa, revive kaupapa, liberate tikanga and reconnect to Te Atua.  And I know for a fact that any intervention that is not based on those building blocks of Te Ao Māori is unlikely to succeed.   

If we have a spiritual crisis, and we do, doesn’t it make sense to then apply spiritual solutions?  Kaua hoki to koutou ahua e rite ki to tenei ao: engari kia puta ke, ara kia whakahoutia o koutou hinengaro, kia whakamatautauria ai e koutou ta te Atua e pai ai, te mea e pai ana, e manakohia ana, e tino rite ana.

PROTECT OUR CHILDREN

Leaving the Whāngarei High Court last Thursday I made a promise to God and myself not to talk about the broken being who had just been sentenced to preventive detention.  Without exception the boys he touched are heroes who deserve a far greater legacy than being his victims.  I pray that, unlike him, they will reach out and find the help they need.   Kaati tena!

Now I turn to something practical.  TU TIKA! is an informal, unfunded, independent collective of ordinary people from around the country doing what we can, where we are, with what we know to keep all of our children safe, and to help reconnect abused children and their whānau to their true greatness.  We have put together this resource to help others do the same.  

HE TAONGA

Tiaki our tamariki.  Treat them well and Treasure them.

Awhi our tamariki.  Allow them to live and learn with love.

Oriori our tamariki.  Offer them our songs.  Open our mouths .

Nehitia our tamariki.  Nurse and Nurture them to be their best.

Guide our children.  Give them Good examples to follow.

Akona our tamariki.  Answer their questions, Ask them our own.

 

 AROHAINA MAI KI AHAU –

some DO’S & DON’TS

Policies – make sure my kindy or kura has policies, and follows them

Rules – set and keep rules to protect me when I'm with you

Oversight – always know where I am, who I'm with, what I'm doing

Talk – tell others about the things you do to protect me

Educate – teach me how I can keep myself safe

Challenge – challenge anyone who puts me at risk

Tautoko – support others to protect their children too

 

Don’t force me to hongi or kiss adults or other people

Don’t assume I'm safe amongst friends or family

Don’t hesitate to report anyone who abuses me

Don’t bring drugs and alcohol into my life

Don’t bring multiple partners into my life

Don’t put your wants before my needs

Don’t blame me if I get abused

We don’t know all the answers to combat the horrors of abuse, but what we know we share.  "Nā tō rourou, nā taku rourou ka ora ai te iwi – With your food basket and my food basket the people will thrive.”

 

TU TIKA!